Long, Long Way from Home
by TheOnlyMojo
Summary: It was a story I actually did for my creative writing class. My friend who is a DIE hard Sam fan told me it was great and told me I should put it online. So, I did.


Long, Long Way from Home.

The black '67 Chevy Impala screeched to a halt in the middle of the wrought iron gate, opening into the Mountain View cemetery in the small little town of Waitsburg, WA. The rain was falling so heavily that both men in the car debated upon whether to get out or to wait a bit until the rain lets up. The younger of the two, Sam, exchanged a soulful look with Dean, his older brother

"Dean…" Sam stated with a twinge of concern. "Dude, we should probably not waste a whole lot of time here. We ought to start digging."

Dean shrugged off Sam's concern for time and explained, "I know Sammy, but if we go out now, all we will be digging up is mud. We might as well just wait a little bit for the rain to clear and then go out."

Sam sighed and glared at his brother. "Dean, if we don't hurry up and get this over with, a bunch of people are going to die because we waited until the rain stopped to go dig up this corpse and stop this spirit."

Dean sighed with annoyance. "You're right. We should get going. I just didn't want to make it harder for us. It will just take a lot more for us to dig up the poor sucker, and don't forget; we have to salt and torch the remains."

The Impala doors creaked and squeaked as they opened just enough for both boys to slide out. Dean quickly stepped out of the driver's seat and trampled around in the soft, rain-soaked ground to the back of his car to the trunk. Dean slid his keys into the keyhole and popped the back open. He grasped the dark gray carpet covered board that disguised the bottom of his trunk, and pulled it up. Underneath, he revealed a cache full of any supernatural weapon imaginable. There were machetes for vampires and holy water for demons and exorcisms from almost every culture on the planet. Not to mention the full arsenal, which was equipped with shot gun shells full of salt, silver knives, silver bullets, and their trusty shot guns and sawed offs. The trunk had everything. Dean searched for everything he needed to fill his trusty army green duffle bag. He filled the bag with lighter fluid, matches, flashlights and salt, while Sam reached for the shovels. With tools in hand, the boys began their tiresome journey of finding the right grave to dig up.

"What is this guy's name again?" Sam questioned as he peered over tombstone after tombstone.

Dean looked up at the sound of Sam's voice and began to search around in the darkness to find his brother. "Uhhh…. I think his name is Jude Marshall or something like that. Hold on, let me check the article." Dean replied as he searched his pockets for the local newspaper article about the recent murders in town. "Yeah, the guys' name is Jude Marshall. If it helps at all, he died in '82." Dean yelled back across the cemetery to his brother.

Dean read every name on the tombstones as he carefully weaved his way around them. As he walked his way through the second row of graves, his flashlight caught of glimpse of what seemed to be the right name. He retraced his steps backwards and read over the name twice to make sure it was right. The grave marker read:

Jude Marshall

Born: December 14, 1962

Died: April 23, 1982

"Yahtzee! I found him." Dean shouted across the cemetery to grab the attention of his brother. At the sound of Dean's voice, Sam jerked his head up and searched for the light from his brother's flashlight. Seeing the light, he ran carefully around the large and small tombstones trying not to slip on the mud beneath his feet.

When Sam reached Dean, he asked, "Who's going to do most of the digging, and who'll be lookout?"

Dean shot his brother a look and Sam knew what would come next. On the count of three, it was Rock, Paper, Scissors, to decide who would be lookout. Whoever lost was the digger.

"ONE. TWO. THREE!" Sam and Dean yelled together. Dean threw scissors and Sam threw rock. Dean shot his brother an angry look. Sam smiled and laughed out "Dean, why do you always throw scissors? You know I will pick rock and win."

Dean glared at his brother and annoyingly answered, "Shut up, Sam. Just help me get this started."

Twenty minutes later the boys, mainly Dean, had the body pretty much unearthed. All that he had left to do was to crack open the coffin, douse the remains in salt and lighter fluid and set a match to it. Sam was standing above Dean with the flashlight so he could see what he was doing. Dean popped open the casket with his shovel and proceeded to try and hop out of the grave. As he was getting out of the grave, Sam got all the utensils out of the trusty army green duffle bag. Dean stood above the grave for a few minutes trying to catch his breath. When he was ready, Sam handed him everything he needed. First the salt, then the lighter fluid, then lastly the matches, Dean doused the corpse with each "ingredient" and set fire to it. Dean looked over at his brother and asked "Thank goodness that is over. The last thing I needed was a super pissed off spirit to deal with." Sam nodded in agreement, and both boys waited in silence until the fire when out, so they could fill the grave back up.

Dean carried the sturdy duffle bag back to the Impala and slid his keys into the trunk to pry it open again. He threw the duffle into the back, and Sam did the same with the shovels, not bothering to put anything in their place.

"Dude, I really need to get something to eat," Dean said to his brother as they entered the car. "Do you care where we go? I seriously am starving."

Sam smiled at his brother and replied, "I am pretty sure that there is a diner right when we get back into town, if that's all right with you."

Dean contemplated for a moment at the idea and shot back, "I am thinking the bar; I could seriously use a drink." Dean started up the car before Sam had a chance to reply. The engine roared to life and they were on their way. The ride back into town wasn't more than ten minutes, and the boys were at the local bar in town called Sidetracks.

Dean and Sam sat down on the worn out bar stools that sat beneath a rustic looking bar. A few minutes passed when a short, blonde-haired waitress, whose nametag boasted the name Destinee, walked over to the boys behind the bar. Dean smiled and immediately turned on his charm. Generally with his looks, Dean could flirt his way into anything. A few moments later, Dean had two beers, one for him and one for Sam.

As Dean was flirting with Destinee, Sam started to look around the bar and take in his surroundings as he generally did. He noticed the people sitting at other tables, and others playing pool in the back, but what was particularly interesting was the girl sitting at the end of the bar. Sam stared at her a little longer and his heart dropped into his stomach. Sam thought, "_That looks a lot like Jessica. But it can't be her; she died more than two years ago". _Sam tried to reassure himself that what he was seeing was just his mind playing tricks on him. But whenever he looked over at that blonde, curly hair, and when he would see her face, he _knew_ it was she. "Dean… I need to..." But before Sam could get any further, Dean's phone went off.

Dean cut Sam off mid sentence. "Hold on second, Sammy. It's Bobby, I should probably take this. He probably has a new job for us. Hello?" Dean answered his phone loudly. "Bobby, hey… hold on sec will you? The reception sucks. I am going to head outside." Turning the cell phone away from his face, Dean told Sam, "I am going to go talk to Bobby, I'll be back in a few minutes, you want to finish up with your beer there and we can head out?"

Sam turned to his brother and nodded. "Yeah, Dean that'll be fine. Just give me a few minutes." Dean headed out with the phone pressed to his ear discussing with Bobby, one of their very close friends, about a new case to start working on.

Sam sat at the bar and tried to gulp down his beer. He paid the tab of both his and Dean's beers and was about to leave when he collided into the tall girl with blonde, curly hair that before was sitting at the end of the bar, also paying her tab. Sam quickly muttered "I'm so sorry, are you alright?" to the girl he just ran into. As she turned around to face Sam, his heart sank.

The girl he ran into was Jessica, his girlfriend, who was believed to have died from a fire in their apartment more than two years ago. "Jess…? What are you doing here? You can't be here…you died. I came home to find our apartment engulfed in flames, and you were severely burned. Jess… it can't be you."

Jess sighed and looked up into her boyfriend's eyes. "Sam, I have wanted to tell you the truth for far too long. I never really died. Your brother and your father – they lied to you. They made the entire thing up so that you would come back to hunting with them. I can't stand to be away from you any longer, and I have been trying to find you for years. Sam… I miss you."

Sam tried to formulate his thoughts into words, but nothing. All he could think is _"Could this really be Jess, the love of my life ALIVE, or is it something else?" _As much as Sam tried to be hopeful and believe that this really was Jess, doubt wandered into his mind. Deep down, Sam knew that Dean would never do something like that to him. Dean watched Sam grieve over the loss of Jess at her funeral, there was no way he could've been a part of this.

"Sam? What do you think of all of this? Please say something." Jess's voice sweetly shook Sam from his analysis of the situation.

"It cannot possibly be you. I watched you die, Jess. You were dead… and Dean would never do that to me. He is my brother; he has had my back ever since we were little." Sam answered in a flurry.

"But that is just the thing, Sam. He lied to you. He may have had your back when you were younger, but he didn't then. He wanted you to come back to hunting with him and your father, that he was willing to do anything to have you be a family again." Jess replied, in a soothing, convincing manner. But before Sam could respond any further, Dean walked through the bar's front door, back to over to Sam, so they could head back to the motel.

"Sam… Bobby has a couple of leads for us to check out for a new case. He said he would normally do them himself, but he is wrapped up in his own case." Dean declared as he gently slid his cell phone back into the pocket of his father's worn leather jacket. As Dean finished his thought, he looked up and saw the look of pain on his brother's face and then he glanced at the girl beside him. Dean knew something was wrong.

"Sam…what's wrong? Is everything…" Dean began, eyes widening as he recognized the girl, but not quickly enough. Sam cut him off mid-sentence and demanded that they head back to the motel immediately. Dean obliged, and Sam stormed out of the bar, took his normal spot in the passenger seat of the Impala, and waited impatiently for his brother to take them back to the motel.

Once the boys returned to their motel, without even having to be asked, Sam explained to Dean the situation, as soon as he understood it. After Sam finished, Dean sat on his bed and contemplated every possible reason as for how this could happen. With all the training his father had put him through since he was a little boy, he knew that there was something supernatural behind it. "Sammy, you know I had nothing to do with whatever this is. I was there, I saw Jess die, just like you did. I would never do something like that to you. She is lying to you."

"Dean, I know you wouldn't do that to me. You've saved me too many times to count. I know you have my back. I just can't quite put my finger one exactly what this could be." Sam answered with confusion. "I just wish I knew what to do."

"Sam. We will figure this out…but it's getting late. Bobby has a few leads for us to check out in a few towns over. I think the best thing to do is just get a good night's sleep and think it over. Maybe something will come to us in the morning." Dean responded with confidence. Sam nodded in agreement, and both boys proceeded to get ready for bed.

Sam woke in the morning with sweat beading on his forehead. He had been having nightmares ever since Jess had died almost two years ago, but for a while they went away. That night, though, Sam had one of his worst in a while. They were always the same – Sam walked through the door to his bedroom; he would lie down on his bed and feel something fall onto his forehead. He would open his eyes, see Jess pinned to the ceiling, bleeding from her stomach. Sam would scream her name, but there was nothing he could do. Jess would burst into flames and Sam would awake in terror.

But this one was worse. It started out the same, and it came the part where Jess is about to burn on the ceiling, when Jess started to talk to him. She repeated over and over _"This is all a lie. Sam, you know this is a lie. It was your father and your brother that faked my death. They made me go away. They never wanted me to be with you."_ Sam wiped the sweat away from his forehead and went to get ready to look over the leads Bobby provided.

Sam sat up on his bed and turned to see if his brother was awake yet. In the bed next to his, Dean was sprawled on the bed underneath the comforter, snoring away. Sam smiled to himself and went into the bathroom to get ready. When Sam walked out of the bathroom, tooth brush in hand Dean was awake and getting dressed. Dean finished putting on his sock and looked up at his brother. He recognized the look on Sam's face after he had one of those heart-wrenching nightmares. "Sam, did you have one of your dreams about Jess again?" Sam nodded his head and looked at Dean in search of what to do. "Sam, I thought those had stopped. But then again, with everything that happened last night, it only makes sense that you would have dreams about her again. But, I still think the best thing is to do, for now, is to just help me with the leads. It will help clear your head. We will deal with whatever that was last night when we cross that bridge," Dean reassured, but Sam still looked concerned.

When Dean and Sam reached the Impala, Dean gave Sam two files of which leads to check out and told him to pick which one he wanted. Sam chose a possible demon possession, leaving Dean with a possible poltergeist.

"Dean?" Sam asked "Where do you want to meet up? Do you want to just call me when you are done with yours, and we can grab something to eat?"

Dean replied, "It shouldn't take me more than a couple hours or so, depending upon how the talk goes with the mother and the daughters. I'll give you a call as soon as I'm done. See you in a bit, Sammy. Be careful."

"You too, dude. I'll call you if I need anything." Sam replied through the window

Sam walked up the concrete path to the house number 142. He rang the doorbell and waited for Mrs. Walker the mother of Lilly, the little girl who seemed to be possessed. When she answered the door, she looked Sam up and down. "Can I help you?" Sam proceeded to give her some speech about how he heard through people in town about her daughter and that he could help her. Mrs. Walker sighed with relief. "I have been so worried about poor Lilly; I just know that she hasn't been herself lately." A few minutes with Lilly, and Sam knew what was wrong – she was definitely possessed. After he consulted the mother, he performed the exorcism, received his thanks, and went on his way.

When he left the Walker's house, he called Dean but all he got was voicemail. Sam waited until the beep and left a message. "Dean, it's me. I finished up the lead you gave me. The girl was possessed. I already preformed an exorcism on her. She should be all right now. Call me when you—" Before Sam could finish his sentence, something hit him over the head and everything went black.

A few hours later, Sam awoke strapped to a table in the middle of nowhere with Jess standing above him, wielding a large butcher knife.

"Jess!?! What are you doing!? Let me go!" Sam screamed to her as loud as he could. But there was no use. No one could hear him scream. It was just he and Jess, and Jess sure wasn't going to let him go.

"Sam, Sam, Sam. Why couldn't you just try to believe me? It sounded pretty good, didn't it? Making up some story about your brother to turn you against each other, but sadly it didn't work. I would've been perfectly fine with killing just your brother, but now I get a bonus. I now get to kill you."

Sam's mind raced with thoughts of his brother and how he was going to escape this one. He didn't have any weapons on him. The only thing he had was the holy water and his Dad's journal filled with exorcisms. That wasn't going to cut it for this one. How would Dean know where to find him? All Sam could do for now, was try and figure out exactly what Jess was, because if there was one thing he figured out, it was that the girl standing above him, was NOT his girlfriend – it was something supernatural.

Dean walked out of the building that supposedly had a poltergeist but it turned out to be a bust. Dean checked his phone for any messages and he saw a voicemail from Sam. He quickly pressed the button and listened. After Sam's message had finished, Dean called him back, confused, but Sam's phone was off. Something was up; Sam never turned his phone off. Neither of them did. In their line of work, having a phone on, especially when separated, was an absolute necessity. Dean decided that he would listen to the voicemail again, hoping to see if he could discover a clue as to what had happened. Listening carefully, Dean noticed that when Sam cut off so quickly that he could hear a "thud" as if Sam had hit the ground. In a panic, Dean raced back to the motel room to see if Sam was there and if not, he knew just how to find him.

Without Sam's knowledge, the phone that Dean had bought him had a tracking device in it; if it ever was lost or stolen, they would be able to find it. When Dean returned to the motel room, noticing Sam was nowhere to be found, he activated the tracking device using Sam's laptop. A few moments later, Dean had his answer. Sam was holed up in small abandoned shack a few towns over. Dean flew out to his car, threw it into drive and sped as fast as he could to save his brother.

Sam lay strapped to the table only now he was full of gashes all over his body. Jess stood above him, make each one a little deeper and a longer than the next, Sam screaming even louder than the last. "You know, you really shouldn't scream so much. No one is coming to save you Sam. Not even your brother." Jess replied as she licked the Sam's blood off of her fingers.  
"If only I had figured out what you were before you attacked me this could've been all over. You're a ghoul, and for the record Dean will save me. He always had my back and he always will. I just can't believe I actually fell for some of your lines. How'd you pull it off anyway?" Sam growled, his voice becoming hoarse from screaming.

"Sam, I am surprised! With your history, I thought you would've been able to figure it out by now. As you said, I'm a ghoul; we take the form of the last poor sucker we swallow. The last person I happened to eat was pretty little Jess. Oh, and did I mention, I take the form of how they last were, burned or not. Because she was the last person I choked, I had her thoughts too. So, I decided to go after the infamous Winchesters." Jessica replied in between taking long drinks of the blood flowing out of Sam's forearms. Before Jess could get another word in edgewise, the door to the shack burst open.

Dean was standing behind the door, and he ran to take Jess out. He pummeled into Jessica as hard as he could to get her out of the way. But, the ghoul was tougher than she looked; she was not about to give up that easily. Dean got so far as to cut some of the tape and rope that was holding Sam to the table before she attacked Dean. "I thought I was only going to get one Winchester, but turns out I will actually get both." Jess said as she and Dean engaged in a volley of punches and kicks, each one getting in a hit or two. As Dean ducked, narrowly avoiding a roundhouse kick to the jaw, he noticed that their fight carried them into the next room.

"Sam? Are you all right?" Dean shouted to his brother as he tried to take out Jessica. The blows from his fists weren't doing enough damage.

"Dean, I'm fine. But she's a ghoul! Hitting her won't do a whole lot of good." Sam replied while he attempted to undo the last of his bonds so he could help his brother.

"Great. That means headshot." Dean replied as he grabbed his sawed off. But before he could pull the trigger, Jess kicked the shotgun out of Dean's hands and took the knife in her hand and sliced down Dean's arm. Dean screamed and crippled with the pain. As he writhed, he reached around him to grab the shotgun, but he saw that the ghoul had kicked it underneath a table on the far end of the room.

Knowing he'd never be able to finish the job on his own, he bellowed, "Sam, I could use a little help over here! All it takes is one shot. I know she looks like Jess, but she is evil! Sam!"

Sam, who finally succeeded in freeing himself, heard his brother's cry for help and leapt off the table, bursting into the next room to find Jess hovering over his bleeding brother. Sam searched the wooden floor in search of Dean's shotgun. The end of the shotgun was showing underneath a metal table in the corner, and he scurried over to snatch it. With a deep breath and another scream from his brother on the floor, Sam aimed at the back of Jessica's head and pulled the trigger, sending pieces of skull and brains everywhere.

Sam stood there for a moment taking in what he had just done. The ghoul in Jess's form was laying on the rotting wooden floor, headless. Sam couldn't believe what he had just done, he knew it was a ghoul but it was hard for him to see Jess die the first time, now he had to live with seeing her die twice? Dean groaned on the floor across the room, shaking Sam from his thoughts. Sam bolted across the room to his bleeding brother.

"Dean! Are you alright?" Sam panted as he helped his brother off of the wooden floor.

"Yeah. Sam, I am fine, just sore. She was a tough one. I think she is the worst one we have had in a LONG time." Dean replied as he attempted to stop the bleeding on his forearm.

"Hold on a sec, let me go get some bandages from the trunk." Dean gave Sam the keys to the Impala, and hurried out to the car to grab the bandages. Back inside, Sam patched Dean up first, using a needle and fishing line, to sew up some of Dean's deeper cuts on his arm, and then placing bandages on the smaller ones. When Sam had finished patching up Dean, he did the same thing for Sam.

"Dean, how are we going to fix this one?" Sam asked as he played with the bandages on his arm.

"Umm… I was just thinking about that one actually. Obviously we need to burn the body, and we have to remove any evidence of us being here so, do you want to wipe down prints and stuff, or would you rather burn the body?" Dean answered as he turned to look at his brother. "Actually. Never mind Sam. I am not going to make you go through that again. Wipe down the prints; I will go take care of the body." Dean replied as he went to go gather up the headless corpse.

An hour later and Dean was finishing up burning the corpse when Sam walked outside of the cabin. "Dean, I am all done in there. How's things with the body?" Sam asked when he approached his brother.

"Everything is just fine, Sammy. Alright. I am pretty much done here. Ready to go when you are." Dean replied as he finished what needed to be done on the body. A few minutes later the Dean was in the driver's seat turning the key in the ignition, and they were on their way back to the motel to gather their belongings and hit the road the following morning.

Dean placed the motel key into the door and turned the knob. Sam walked in and immediately collapsed on the bed. Dean followed him in and quietly closed the door and locked it behind him. "Sammy, are you sure you are alright?" Dean asked with concern for his younger brother.

Sam looked over at his brother from his bed and sighed "Yeah, Dean I am fine. My arm hurts a little bit, but that's probably from the stitches."

"Sammy. That's not what I meant. I mean everything with Jess, and the ghoul and you having to give her a headshot, how you holding up??" Dean answered still with the same air of concern.

"Dean, I am fine. I did what needed to be done. It was either give the ghoul the head shot or watch you die. Like I said before, you have my back so I have yours." Sam replied smoothly from the comfort of his bed.

Sam looked at his brother as Dean took in what was just said. Dean walked over to his bed, and sat down. "Sam, I will always have your back. Ever since we were little, it has always been keep an eye out for Sammy. That's what I have always done and that's what I will always do."

Sam turned his head over to look at his brother. "Right back at you, Dean." Sam told his brother as he slowly drifted off into sleep, leaving his brother to do the same.


End file.
